


Happily Ever After in New Orleans

by Baby_Fangirl



Series: A Foxxay Fairytale [2]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-01 17:45:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10195418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baby_Fangirl/pseuds/Baby_Fangirl
Summary: Sequel to Once Upon a Time in New Orleans. (Please read that first if not already)Ratings, Tags and Characters will be updated with progress.Comments are always appreciated!





	1. Married in the Movies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, just spreading the news, that yesterday (08/03/17) Lily Rabe gave birth to a healthy baby girl!  
> Second of all, I can't promise immediate updates, I'm a busy person, but I swear I'll write whenever I can.   
> Happily Ever After in New Orleans, everybody! *let's cue some applause here*

“It’s definitely broken,” Misty Day stared intently, examining the white-washed bedroom door with pure focus before drawing out that well observed conclusion. The old door was attached to the frame by a single hinge, leaning precariously outwards as if it had just been the subject to a stampede. The door handle was loose and the lock had fully been separated, the final finishing touch to add to the broken thing was the highly visible crack etched down it’s wooden middle.

The curly-haired blonde sat cross-legged on the hard floor in their bedroom, twirling a long screwdriver in between her fingers, as the other woman approached slowly, “Thanks sweetheart, I totally didn't get that from the fact it’s hanging off its hinges,” Cordelia giggled, sinking to the ground and shuffled behind her young lover to wrap her arms around the Cajuns slim waist.

Misty craned her head gently, pressing a soft loving kiss to the woman's warm, inviting lips, allowing a relaxing sigh to pass between them. “Don' start with me Delia, I'm doin' some serious building work,” she noted seriously with a betraying grin.

“I love how engaging in a starting contest with a broken door classifies as _serious_ building work,” Cordelia Goode proclaimed, giggling softly as she pressed her front into her girlfriends back.

 

They had been together for eight whole wonderful, spectacular months, and had celebrated Misty's birthday, Halloween, and Thanksgiving by each others side. Thirty-one days into their relationship, Cordelia asked the girl to move into her apartment and Thirty-one days and four hours into their relationship, they had moved Misty's belongings into the next room and were officially living together in the flats.

They had been dating for five months when both had agreed that they needed someplace big enough for the two of them, (plus the added fact the Cajun had decided she now wanted a pet). Misty began working in the local dog groomers, satisfying her pet thirst whilst earning a good income, and they slowly began saving enough, little by little.

 Just two weeks ago, they had moved into Cordelia's old childhood home, confirming that it felt right, and with the help of Zoe, her fiancé Kyle, Luke and Madison, they were soon unpacked and comfortable. Well... Some obviously did more unpacking than others, meaning when Luke and Kyle were hoisting furniture, Madison had to hold up every garment of revealing or skimpy underwear that she unpacked, making some crude comment before stuffing them in a drawer.

And as of late, they were happily living together with a whole house to themselves, plus the extra benefit of a ginormous back garden which the two women were reluctant to leave. Some days Cordelia would have to dart out and drag Misty inside in the middle of the pouring rain; other days, Misty would have to pick her girlfriend up and carry her in when the night had fallen and she was still tending to the bluebells.

There had been no sign of Fiona, and no mention of Hank, those topics of conversation were dead almost, in this house.

All in all, they were happy.

 

“What are we supposed to do about that?” Cordelia inquired, softly caressing her lovers stomach through her thin gauze blouse that she had paired off with a pair of denim shorts (Much to Delia’s pleasure). Her tone was hard to place, it was a mix between _‘You’re **the** Misty Day, you’re supposed to know **everything** ,’_ and _‘If we don’t do something the world will end and it will be catastrophic,’._

“We could take it off f’now, and then perhaps we could temporarily put a bit a wood across it,” The Cajun suggested with a weak shrug, rather opposed to be dealing with _that_ every time she wanted in or out of their room.

“It had a bit of wood across it... it was _called_ a door,” Cordelia interjected, pressing lazy kisses to the back of her girlfriends porcelain neck. This house was really old, so it wasn’t much of a surprise that the door gave way under force.

The wild blonde let a loose hum of pleasure vibrate on her lips as she groaned in protest, carelessly indicating to the door with her screwdriver, “Well it's broken Dee,” the girl clarified again a if it was a new piece of information at a crime scene.

“I know it's broken... _We_ broke it,” Misty couldn't help but smirk slightly at the reminisce of the past evening, an endearing blush highlighting the shell of her ears in brilliant maroon, whether from the memory or Cordelia’s persistent lips attacking the base of her neck, she couldn't tell which.

“Ya weren’t complaining at the time when I was screwing ya against it. I thought the doors would have bin fool-proof,” reminiscing taking her girlfriend against their bedroom door sent a quick shiver escalating up the Cajuns spine and a soft sigh descend from her semi-parted lips.

“Fool-proof yes, but not Misty-proof, _nothing’s_ Misty-proof,” the older woman teased, although the tips of her ears were starting to grow warm when the wild blonde brought it up. Her remarks usually earned her a playful jab or even a middle finger when the girl wasn't up for arguing, but Misty was silent, and Cordelia began to worry that she had taken it too far. “Babe?”

The curly blonde slowly turned, shuffling to face her girlfriend and the older woman was glad to see that there was a simple smirk protruding on her sweet lips and no evidence that her words had been taking wrong way. Of course, Cordelia would never be glad to see that smirk again. Misty slowly set down the screwdriver and raised her hands to her lovers sides, resting there for a sweet moment before her lithe digits began to dig against her skin lightly.

Cordelia squealed in protest, trying to squirm away from her lover, her course laughter ringing loudly into the atmosphere; she wasn’t overly-sensitive in spots, but in the face of this special brand of torture, innocently labelled ‘tickling’, her defenced crumbled. The woman was shortly out of breath, crying and laughing for Misty’s mercy.

The woman wheezed and thrashed like a fish out of water, trying to find some position than would offer her safety from her girlfriends pestering hands. Usually she liked her exploring fingers, but not so much when they were digging relentlessly into her sides, causing unrefined laughter to billow from her lips

“M-Misty, Oh… m-my God, I’m, I’m going to, going to _die_ ,” The younger blondes hands ceased their assault, alternating to sweetly wrap around her Cordelia’s waist and bring her closer.

"Is that so? Well we wouldn' want that ta happen now, would we? An’ ‘ere I thought Goode’s were made of sterner stuff." Cordelia wanted to wipe the smug grin off her girlfriends beautiful face but couldn't help but respond in kind to the infectious happiness radiating off of her. Misty’s grin softened and she turned her head to place a chaste kiss on Delia’s forehead.

“I’ve had a thought,” the older woman rasped, still overcoming the attack as she panted into the Cajuns neck ever so gently.

“Congratulations,” Misty deadpanned with a winning smirk, causing her lover to respond by lightly nudging her playfully with a mock pout that slowly morphed to a childish grin just by the cuteness of her Cajun lover. “Penny for ya thoughts, Einstein?”

The older woman giggled softly, wrapping her arms loosely around her girlfriend’s neck. “Say, why don’t we forget about the door, and you and I can go to the movies?” She suggested, dark eyes searching deeply into sky-blue. “That okay?”

“ _So_ okay,”

 

* * *

 

 

Cordelia Goode loved Fridays.

It was long since decided that every Friday, she and Misty would go out someplace, whether that be to a restaurant or (heaven forbid) an ice rink, the evening would be spent outside of their home, almost like an actual date, and it never failed to bring a wonderful smile to the woman’s lips.

Misty glanced over to her girlfriend with wide, blue eyes and a grin painting cushioned, pink lips like art. She was dressed rather conflictingly in comparison to her morning attire, now in a black dress, matched with a sea-blue shawl and a light pink neck-scarf. Cordelia had decided upon a slimming pencil skirt and a thin, duck-shell coloured blouse, throwing a black jacket over that to keep her warm given the fact the November chill was crisp as bitter.

The curly blonde always loved watching her girlfriend get ready, always a mystery what combination of clothes the older woman would throw together to look absolutely stunning again and again.

Pink clouds stretched across the expanse of an orange sky, rendering purple and fading to a dark blue, it was the kind of sky that features in watercolour paintings, a beauty of nature, and Misty couldn’t help but stare up at the evening gift. Her hand was clasped tightly with Cordelia’s as they walked in step, neither really watching where they were going, with crystalline blue eyes trained on the sky, and with a dark chocolate gaze adorning the Cajun girl with pure adoration.

“I hate to pull you out of your moment with nature, Miss Day, but we’re almost there,” The shorter blonde softly squeezed the others fingers, not even thinking before raising Misty’s hand to her lips and pressing a sweet adorning kiss to the back of it. The Cajun giggled, pulling herself closer to the older woman.

“Ya jus’ the sweetest in tha whole world, Miss Cordelia,” The curly blonde proclaimed, letting go of her girlfriends hand to push open one of the glass doors and holding it for the older woman to lead through. Misty wrapped an arm around the others waist gently, ignoring Cordelia’ attempts at arguing.

“Two tickets ta whatever’s playin’ next,” Misty prompted, glancing at her girlfriend and screwing up her eyes tight like she was trying to remember something, “An’ a ‘medium tub a sweet popcorn with a regular coke, no ice’… an’ I’ll have a sprite,” The Cajun finished, almost pleased with herself.

Cordelia looked up in transfixed awe. “You remembered what I order?” She turned to the taller girl, wrapping both her arms around her, bringing the gypsy into a meaningful embrace. If she positioned her head just right… she could hear Misty’s heart beat pounding rhythmically (if not a little too fast) inside her chest.

“Couse I did, darlin’, I can’t forget anythin’ about ya… Damn that came out kinda cheesy,” Misty giggled, lightly running her long digits through her lovers sleek, blonde tresses.

The girl behind the till looked about seventeen, with olive skin and jet black hair, and whilst she was filling a box with fresh, heavenly-smelling popcorn, she was gazing in awe at the two women, caught in each others arms.

“If you don’t mind me saying, ladies, you two are such a sweet married couple!” The young woman exclaimed with a hint of joy lacing her tone, glancing between the two women so close together as she set down the box and the two drinks, tapping out the receipt. “Oh and that’ll be six, forty-five.”

The wild blonde had to try stifle her silent laughter, sucking lightly on her bottom lip in a forced attempt to not make a sound. Cordelia swapped a look with her unhelpful girlfriend, a rose blush rendering her cheeks as she turned back to the girl with an unsteady exhale as she paid for their beverages.

“Oh we’re, n-” she began but Misty cut her off, sliding her arm around the older woman’s waist and pulled her closer into her side with a bright grin on her lips.

“Thank ya…We’ve bin’ together comin’ up four years now, ain’t she a beauty?” The Cajun declared, more than amused by the red blush highlighting the older womans cheeks which the girl behind the till didn’t appear to notice. She really _was_ a beauty, and if they were an actual couple like that, Misty would always introduce her Delia that way.

“That’s so sweet! Any kids?” The olive-skinned girl asked, oblivious to Misty’s increasing desires to burst out laughing, yet she wasn’t going to leave it there. Golden curls bounced softly as she nodded, turning back to the shorter woman with a slight smirk.

“Yes… two girls, right Miss Cordelia?” The wild blonde encouraged her girlfriend to speak, brows raised expectantly and a glowing smile on her lips. _Come on Dee… We can have fun like this…_

“We do, Sky and Evie, Sky is four and little Evie just turned one,” Cordelia relented, playing along, living the married life could be good for her, even if it was for five minutes. Besides the look of pure happiness highlighted on her girlfriends face was the only reward she wanted.

“Oh my, that’s just adorable!” The cashier handed over the change with a blossoming smile, as if hearing someone’s happy love-life just made her evening. “Enjoy the movie!” she chirped, serving the next customer as the two women walked with linked arms to their allocated screen.

“ _Sky and Evie_?” Misty inquired in a hushed tone, letting loose a soft laugh, still sparking with adrenaline as she brushed closer to the older woman.

“We’re _married_?” Cordelia responded in an equal whisper, but a brilliant smile had lit up her features in a way only Misty knew how to do. She was dating an angel. An actual beautiful angel.

“C’mon Mrs Day, We gotta movie ta watch!” Misty teased, quickening her pace into a light-hearted skip, and the older woman felt her heart leap, straight into her throat. If they were going to pretend to be married then she was so going to be a wife.

“Baby, you’re shaking the Soda, and unless you want a volcano of sprite erupting in your lap, I suggest you calm down and walk beside me,” Cordelia played, laughing as her younger lover turned around, promptly walking backwards with a pout on her inviting pale lips.

“I love ya darlin’ I do, but I call aisle seat,” the wild blonde stated teasingly glancing down at the two tickets she held in her other hand.

“Oh no you don’t!” Cordelia warned with a playful edge to her tone, but Misty was already giggling, several steps ahead and preparing to run for it. “Misty Day, don’t you dare,” the wild blonde was off before any other words were spoken and the older woman promptly chasing her through the doors, up the stairs to their assigned row, leaving a slight trail of popcorn in her wake.

Misty sat down in the aisle seat with a triumphant grin, and the older woman sat immediately on her lap, both of them laughing till their sides hurt.

“Cordelia! Get off me ya goof!” the wild blonde groaned, pretending to whine in exhausted defeat, and with a warm giggle, the shorter blonde stood up. Misty didn’t even hesitate before standing up and moving into the next seat, pecking her girlfriend on the lips as she passed. “Aisle seat’s yours, love,”

With a breathless sigh, both women sat down, warm smiles creeping up to red cheeks.

“So this is what it’s like being married, huh?” Cordelia exclaimed quietly as the screen lit up with coming advertisements, glancing to the wild blonde with a happy grin.


	2. Soup earned Kisses

 

Misty had no idea what caused her unexpected illness, sure Natalie had been ill at work the other day… but that was just a common cold; this was off-the scale sickness according the wild blonde. Even still, Cordelia Goode abruptly woke her that Saturday morning, alarmed by the furnace temperature of her skin… yet she just felt cold.

In just one word, Misty felt helpless. Her suddenly weak, fragile form had been pinned to the sheets like a bookmark wedged between endless pages, as she was buried under an excessive mountain of blankets that her girlfriend had salvaged from other rooms in the house, every blanket and quilt the older woman could find surrounded the Cajun. Despite how much she had fought against it, Cordelia swore that she was not to argue or there would be no ice cream. Of course, the wild blonde had fallen quiet at that.

The shorter of the two took refuge in the chair that had been shuffled closer to the sofa where the younger girl had been condemned, and she was holding a hot, steaming bowl in one hand and a hovering spoon in the other, awaiting the finale of the Misty's tantrum patiently.

“I ain’t hungry,” she concluded miserably, having lectured the brown-eyed beauty forcefully with a seemingly prepared speech as to why she didn’t want or need to eat.

“If you’re well enough to argue to such depths, you’re well enough to swallow a spoon full of soup... It's tomato soup? I know how much you like tomato,” Cordelia teased playfully and the Cajun tried not to snort at the response. The sick woman sighed and melted back among her arranged nest of pillows and blankets, in no mood to be force-fed like she was two years old.

“I ain't hungry, I’m _tired_ ,” Misty huffed with a pleading pout, drawing out her tantrum and expressing her refusal as she crossed her arms persistently.

“You’ve slept for ten hours at least, you _are_ allowed to skip on some beauty-sleep to eat,” the older woman chuckled lightly whilst stirring the untouched contents of the bowl with the spoon that was gradually growing warmer in between her fingers. “If you don’t eat, you are going to get worse before you get better,” she stared up at her girlfriend with a pout painting her pale lips. Her soft golden tresses had become increasingly messy after being bedridden (or ‘couchridden’) for the morning and apparently was not entitled to quality time with her own hairbrush.

To be most entirely honest, Misty looked.... dreadful. Her complexion was no longer glowing its golden rays, it was as if she had seen a ghost and her skin had turned to alabaster. The Cajun was hot to the touch and Cordelia had been urged to move the covers away from her, but then the girl would start shivering and then she would draw them back up to her chin, a vicious circle so to speak. She looked gaunt and fragile, as if a gust of wind would blow her bones back to Lafayette, or that the many covers would crush her spine to splinters. Yet, she was still on her couch, bones successfully intact, so it wasn’t that extreme. Her lips were dangerously dry, and red circles surrounded her sky-blue eyes, which completed the whole sick phase.

 “No thanks” Misty murmured and coughed, attempting to clear her throat. Swallowing was like choking on sand and even speaking whole sentences was taking too much effort. A glass of water was hovering by her lips, supported by Cordelia, and she instantly allowed the woman to aid her with drinking. The girl was like a child who didn’t want to eat her vegetables, whining and moaning, which would have been perfectly acceptable under much less serious circumstances, if you could call meal-times a serious circumstance.

Once the golden-haired beauty had so elegantly finished her round of coughing she sat back, engulfed in the tower of pillows. Cordelia’s brow was raised in concern and she sat forward, taking one of the Cajun's warm hands in her own. “Are you okay, Misty?” the girl only nodded, her heavy-lidded eyes fluttered closed, finding a preference in falling asleep than face the contents of the bowl in the others hands.

“Misty, Misty you do not get to sleep until the bowl is licked clean!” the woman emphasised, nudging her awake. The taller blonde pouted, her bottom lip sticking out slightly. God, she wished she wasn’t so ill, then there would be no force-feeding, no mountain of pillows, no attention... scratch that, she liked the attention, just a little.

“There’s only one thin’ I want ta lick clean an’ it ain’t the bloody bowl,” Misty cursed weakly with a smirk. Her witty comments got her almost everywhere, and she rest her head back, smugly. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know that her girlfriend was blushing sweetly.

Cordelia gathered her bearings. She was far too used to the blondes sudden statements, yet they never ceased to affect her and with the heat of her cheeks, she could have easily claimed to be sick as well. The moment of silence lasted too long, and the older woman had feared that the Cajun Queen was deep in slumbers again. “How about we make a deal?”

Misty merely opened one eye lazily, regarding the shorter blonde as if she had just noticed her to be there. The sick girl groaned rolling onto her back and stretching under the covers before propping herself up on her elbows and grimacing at the effort required to maintain a steady position.

“Dee, ya don’ understand! I’m going ta die!” She paused dramatically finally managing to sit up properly, though Misty was betting it was the millions of blankets that had been preventing her from sitting, and not her weak body.

“You haven’t listened to my deal yet, baby,” Cordelia chided, stirring the soup in the other direction now. “For every spoonful of this, I’ll give you a kiss,” Something in the Cajun lit up, she had been missing body contact sincerely since she had been buried alive beneath fleece blankets, and her girlfriends lips were extremely tempting and before she knew it, she had swallowed a small portion of the soup that Cordelia had been spooning to her. She had mentally preparing herself to be poisoned, so it came as a nice surprise to find that the soup hadn’t killed her. “See, not so bad?”

The older woman chuckled softly, holding the soup out of the way as she bent lower to press her lips to Misty’s, but the Cajun’s covered her own lips in sudden protest. “Ya might get ill too… I don’ want ya kissin’ me if it means ya gonna be sick as well,” she whispered, resisting the urge to collapse back into the pillows.

“It’s the only way I’m managing to get anything down you, besides, I wouldn’t mind scouring several days off work,” Cordelia teased a reluctant Cajun who simply shivered and without hesitation the older woman was drawing the blankets up to her neck.

“My immune system is a faulty piece of shit,” Misty mumbled, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, keeping the sheets up with the other.  

“Why is it you swear ten times more than usual when you’re sick?” the older woman mused with a silent laugh pressing the back of her hand against the Cajun’s forehead, suddenly concerned that her temperature was still burning like a furnace. “Mist baby, you’re temperature…” The girl bristled uncomfortable, trying for a confident smile that was more a grimace, aware of the pain in her head.

“Are ya gonna feed me, or what?” The wild blonde inquired cheekily, opening her mouth excessively and waiting to be spoon-fed soup. Cordelia could only giggle quietly, watching her girlfriends face contort in mock disgust as she swallowed. “I want ice cream,”

 “I want to be in a relationship with an actual adult, but there we go,” the shorter blonde teased, before leaning back down and leisurely pressing her lips to Misty’s. Her tongue softly soothed the girls dry lips, tasting the combination of her cherry lip balm and tomato soup.

“Ya can’t be mean ta me… I’m sick!” she replied breathlessly, sighing in slight content at having her girlfriend so close. “Sure ya don’ mind the idea of getting ill with me?” Misty glanced up at the older woman, rather worried. She didn’t want her darling Cordelia to have to suffer through being ill, it felt like being stuck in hell… except she was with her lover, so it wasn’t overly bad.

“What would make you feel better baby?” the woman whispered after her eighth soup-earned kiss, slim fingers lightly threading through the Cajun’s wild curls. Misty shrugged, too ill to come up with any rational idea of what would make her feel better, besides Cordelia that was.

“Stevie, TV… ice-cream?” she suggested, almost perking up at the last option decisively.

“No ice-cream, sweetheart. I’m catching you up on Game of Thrones, okay?” Misty nodded as the other set down the bowl, she was probably going to fall asleep through it anyway and get Cordelia to catch her up verbally.

“How many seasons are there?” she pondered curling up on one side of the sofa so that Delia could cuddle beside her. The one time Cordelia had a cold, she had imprisoned her girlfriend on the couch, giving her medicines and hot drinks every other hour, and full control over the TV remote, she had bought three boxes of tissues and had brought the bin to one side of the couch for her… it seemed that now, Goode was returning the favour.

“Six, I’m anxiously waiting for the seventh so you better have caught up by then,” Cordelia ordered playfully, kissing her lover again distractedly, before sorting out the program.

“Yes ma’am… an’ how many seasons am I through?” Misty wondered, wondering why her girlfriend hadn’t yet sat down beside her… she wasn’t taking up _that_ much room was she? _Oh Lord what if she can’t handle me being ill? Get better Day, Get better!_ Misty whined to herself, she hated feeling this useless and pathetic.

“Two and a half.” Cordelia stated with a light smug grin, glancing quickly to the girl before bringing up the TV menu, she realised just a little late that the look on her girlfriend’s face was one of slight sorrow. “Hey, sweetheart, what’s the matter?” the older woman frowned, kneeling before the Cajun on the couch, her fingertips reaching to gently caress her cheek.

“M’sorry, Miss Cordelia,” Misty whispered, hiding her face in the covers, her emotions in turmoil due to her illness.

“Baby, why are you sorry? Is it… because you don’t feel well?” Blue eyes peeked from behind the blankets, glazed over in unshedding tears before nodding slightly. “Oh my sweet, darling, Misty Day. I’m so glad that I get to take care of you, you’re not a bother, you’re not a burden, you’re sick and by God I wouldn’t dream of letting you just get better on your own. I’m your girlfriend for a reason, sweetheart, that’s because I love you, and I love you even when your immune system is a faulty piece of shit,” Cordelia promised, tucking her fingers beneath Misty’s chin, and guiding her lips back onto her own.

The Cajun let loose a small whimper, kissing her lover again.

“I’m so lucky ta have ya, Dee,” Cordelia pressed another chaste kiss to wild, blonde curls as she stood up, a warm smile on her lips.

“Just you focus on getting better, okay darling?” Misty nodded slowly, frowning as the next episode began playing and her girlfriend picked up her phone, and heading for the next room.

“Where ya goin’ babe?”

The older woman turned back to the sweet blonde, a reassuring grin gracing her smooth lips, “I’m just going to make a phone call, lovely, then I’ll be back to watch this with you… and if you’re still awake, I’ll get the ice cream out the freezer,”

  

* * *

 

Strong, pale fingers danced over the keys on the grand piano that sat central in the dining room, a macabre waltz between white and black, the notes coming at ease and soothing the sharp silence into a song.

For a long moment, she sat contently at her piano, eyes softly closing as the vibrating hum came in hushed undertones and her right hand began playing out the melody that she knew all too well, letting the music wash over her like the waves of a shore.

She was half way through playing when the obnoxious default ringing tone of her phone sung to her from its perch on the side table, cutting through the music rather rudely. Letting a heavy sigh descend from her warm lips, the woman stood from the stool and let her emotions calm down when she recognized the contact and a delighted smile brightened her features.

 “ _Hi Aunt Stephanie, it’s me, Cordelia,”_ Stevie smiled into the phone, it had been too long since she had heard from her goddaughter, and she didn’t exactly believe Fiona’s past retelling that Cordelia Goode was a new-level disappointment, she had never believed that.

“Cordelia, dear, what can I do for you?”


End file.
